


November 5th

by StackerPentecost



Series: November Writing Prompts [5]
Category: Marvel, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Not as Depressing as the Tags Imply, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 06:15:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16529003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StackerPentecost/pseuds/StackerPentecost
Summary: Karen and Frank meet when they're both sent to in an inpatient mental health facility. They never expect to bond the way they do.Frank and Karen are both 17 at the start of this story.This is for a November Prompt List.Today's prompt is: 'There are two great days in a person's life - the day we are born and the day we discover why' - William Barclay.





	November 5th

His feet pad quietly against the floor. His boots, the favorite pair that his father gave him for his sixteenth birthday, the kind just like a soldier wears, are in his room. Shoes are not allowed in the rest of the facility.

It’s lunch time and he’s in sweatpants. It feels wrong. Frank is not a lazy person and wearing the clothes of someone who doesn’t take pride in their appearance is odd. But a lot of things are odd about him lately. 

The cafeteria matches the rest of the place. Bare white concrete walls and sparkling white floors. Frank is afraid he might slip and fall on his ass in his socked feet.

He steps up to get his food, a choice between a chicken sandwich or some sort of spaghetti looking mess. Wisely, he takes the sandwich and carton of apple juice. 

  
When he turns back to look at the crowd of long tables, various forms hunched over their food, he doesn’t know what to do. He hasn’t spoken to anyone since he got here, not even the nurses that whine and complain and invade his privacy on a regular basis. 

He doesn’t know why she stands out to him. Everyone else strikes him as the same, copies of each other no matter their appearance. They all wear the same expression anyway, one of listlessness and boredom, a complete lack of emotion in any of their features. But, even in the ugly florescent lighting glaring down on them from above, she still stands out.

She’s wearing polka dots, black and white. Her pajama pants have little corgis with hats on them. Her skin is pink against the whiteness of everything and he notices both wrists are taped up with gauze. There’s a cut on her cheek and the side of her face is yellowing with an old bruise.

It’s her eyes. That’s what catches him. 

She lifts her head just as he turns, a shock of blue amongst some much dull. Despite everything, despite the state she’s in and the place she’s in, there is life in those eyes, more so than he’s seen in anybody else. He’s drawn to her like moth to a flame. 

She ducks her head when he approaches, gently tugging at long blond strands that flit past her shoulders. She hugs herself when he sits next to her and slides a little further down the seat. He  can’t exactly blame her. He’s at least a few inches taller and weighs twice as much. 

He tucks his hands into his hoodie. They let him have it only after removing the drawstrings. He notices the food on her tray is untouched. He can’t blame her, the spaghetti smells as bad as it looks. He chews his lip at this new information, fiddling with something stowed in his pocket. 

“Hey..” She flinches and stays turned away from him and he’s afraid she’s going to bolt.

He has to do this quietly and discreetly or they’ll throw him back into his room and he’ll be on lockdown until the next morning. Confined spaces made it hard for him to breathe. 

“Hey..” He tried again, but she seemed to slip even further away. So he decided to just go for it. He pulled out a small, snack sized piece of chocolate from his hoodie pocket and gently set it next to her thigh, careful not to touch her. He knew what it was like to not want to be touched.

She glanced at him once, quickly, then again, then realized what he’d done. Slowly, her hand came down to cover the contraband. In a flash, she shoved it into the pocket of her pajama pants.

“Why?” She said it so softly that he almost didn’t catch it.

“Because you’re different. I can tell.” Frank responded honestly. He didn’t push her to say more, instead began to nibble on the mashed potatoes on his plate. They were clearly instant, nothing like the kind his mother used to make by hand, but he was hungry and he didn’t want one more thing to keep him up that night.

It was then that he noticed her watching him. She leaned a little closer at the scent of coming off the chicken sandwich. 

  
“Were there none of these when you got your food?” He wondered more to himself than her.

“I was bad..” She stated softly. “They made me get the food I didn’t want as punishment. I have to eat it, or I’ll get in trouble but..” Her expression turned to one of disgust. “It’s gross. And they made me take the milk. I’m lactose intolerant.” 

Frank wasn’t surprised. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something about it. 

“Here, switch with me. I’ll eat yours and you can have mine. They won’t know the difference.”

Her lip began to tremble. “What? I-I can’t..I-I deserve..” Those beautiful blue eyes filled with tears. 

“Don’t worry about it, please. And the people here are assholes, you didn’t deserve anything.” Frank subtly surveyed the room before switching their trays. He really didn’t mind. Food was food to him, it all tasted like nothing anyway.

She looked down at her hands, rubbing her fingers against the gauze. “Thank you.” She peeked up at him. “What’s your name?”   
  
He used his spork to stab a piece of broccoli. “Frank. What about you?”

She smiled gently. Frank. It suited him. “You can call me Karen.”

* * *

 

From that point on, they ate together everyday and stuck together whenever they could. Karen didn’t take offense when Frank was withdrawn or angry and Frank never said anything about the scars she carried. They enjoyed each other’s presence but above all, they respected each other in a way that was often denied in a place like this. 

Frank stole candy from the nurse’s station for her and she helped to ground him when his anxiety threatened to take over. They never demanded to know what had happened with each other but finally, after a few weeks inside, they shared what had brought each other here. 

  
Frank had watched his father murder his mother after years of abuse. They’d diagnosed him with PTSD after that and he’d been left here until they deemed him well enough to leave and found him somewhere to go. 

Karen’s mother had died of cancer when she was young. She had been close with both her brother and father until an accident killed Kevin and her father blamed her for his death. She’d begun to spiral after that and he’d left her here after she’d slit her wrists with a razor. The bruise on her face had been from his fist when he’d found her after she’d done it.

It drew them closer together, sharing these things and only made Frank want to protect her more. When one of the other residents had threatened Karen with bodily harm, Frank had gotten himself locked in his room for six days after he’d made sure the kid would never touch her again. In his mind, it was worth it, despite having to be away from her. The longer he was here, the more he was sure that protecting Karen was his calling in life. And when most of the time he lived his life in a numb, angry haze, he welcomed this feeling. Being with Karen was the only time he ever felt anything. 

He never expected to fall in love with her though. 

That’s what it had to be, didn’t it? The ache in his very core every time their hands happened to brush. The way her smile lightened the constant heaviness in his chest. The way every time he pictured life outside these walls, she was always there along with him. 

Their first kiss was stolen in the shielding darkness of movie night, when they planted themselves in the back of the room where the nurses wouldn’t see their hands linked together. In the dim light, her hand had found his again and he couldn’t stop himself. He would’ve pulled away had she resisted or said no in any way, but she didn’t. They were skirting a dangerous line doing this, but she must have cared as little as he did, kissing him back as if he had the only oxygen left in the world and she was suffocating. 

In that quiet moment, they made each other a promise. No matter what happened, once they left this place behind, once they got out, once they were free, they would find each other again.

* * *

 

Karen left before he did. There came a day when she was told she was being released, into the custody of her aunt. She had a day to prepare. 

This was good, Frank was happy for her. There was just one problem. Her aunt lived two states away. How would they find each other if she was so far and they didn’t even know what was to become of him?

Tears spilled out of those blue eyes he loved so much. He felt like he losing part of himself. He was alive because of her. He would’ve long since succumbed to the demons that roamed inside his head if it hadn’t been for her. He couldn’t imagine going on without her.

So he didn’t. He didn’t know how he’d make it happen, how he’d find her, but he would. 

The day she left, she found a private moment to kiss him goodbye, slipping a piece of paper into his hand before she had to go. He opened it later, after she was long gone. 

  
It was an address, her aunt’s house. At least it was something.

Sleeping became harder than ever. His illness threatened to overwhelm him and suck him under the surf for good, fill his lungs with water until he never took another breath. But slowly, a plan came to him. 

His eighteenth birthday was in a matter of weeks. Legally, he was allowed to leave then and no one could stop him. So all he had to do was bide his time and then he could leave and find Karen. 

Time dragged on, slowed down, became the enemy he hated most in the world. He felt like clawing out of his own skin. He just wanted her. To feel her touch, to see her face, to match their breaths so he could calm himself. His birthday couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

 

It was a windy, fall day when he finally got out. He had his boots back on and finally felt somewhat like himself. But there was still a big part of him that was missing and he was going to find her, no matter what it took.

He returned home briefly to gather up everything he owned. It all fit into one duffel bag. He nearly cried out in relief when he realized he had enough money for a bus ticket. 

The house he found himself in front of was utterly normal in every way. Blue paint, wrap around porch, flowers in the yard and a cat sitting in the front window sunbathing. He checked and rechecked the address at least ten times. This was the place Karen had left for him to go.

Mustering every bit of courage he had in him, he walked down the stone path and ascended the front steps, opening the screen door to knock. All the while, his heart felt like it had migrated up to his throat. He felt like he was going to split apart right then and there.    
  
There was the sound of muted footsteps and then the door swung open. A petite older woman appeared, her graying hair pulled back into a bun. Her face was lined around the mouth, but it was the eyes that he recognized. They were the same eyes that had drew him in that first time he’d met Karen.

“Can I help you, sir?”

Suddenly, his rehearsed words died on his tongue. His mind was utterly blank. But, somehow, he managed, “Karen? I-Is Karen Page here?”

The woman opened her mouth to respond only to be cut off by a loud exclamation from behind her. She chuckled softly at this and stepped aside. 

She was there, standing in the foyer, dressed in jeans and a soft blue sweater. She had more color to her skin now and her face had healed. Her beautiful blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Her eyes were already filling with tears, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. 

Frank managed a smile, feeling relief flood him like a wave hitting the shore. “It’s good to see you, Karen.” He said, ever the polite gentleman.

A choked sob escaped her before she was surging forward and he caught her in his arms. She held onto him like she believed he wasn’t real. He held just as tight, burying his nose in her hair. She smelled like strawberries and home. Her shoulders shuddered as she cried and his hand found her back, rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades.

It took a few minutes before she was calm enough to speak. But when she pulled back, she didn’t say anything, instead leaning up on her toes and kissing him with everything she had. It was everything Frank had been needing ever since she had gone and then some. His cheeks were wet, she was crying again. 

When they parted, he reached wipe away the tears with his thumbs. He couldn’t stop looking at her, she was so damn beautiful. He almost couldn’t believe she was really here. But no matter how many times he blinked, she didn’t disappear. 

“I never stopped thinking about you.” She whispered. “Never, not once.” 

He smiled gently. “Neither did I.” He kissed her again, this time softer, sweeter. 

“I love you, you know that? I’ve been in love you since that day you saved me, maybe even before that.”

Frank leaned their foreheads together. “I know. I love you too. I can’t even remember when it started.”

  
“Will you stay then? Are you here to stay?” She asked, a hand stroking down his arm.

“Wherever you are, that’s where I belong. You’re my purpose, I know that more than anything.”

Karen chanced a glance at the woman who had opened the door, who must be her aunt. The older woman was smiling as she watched their exchange. “Well?” She asked. “Are you going to invite the nice boy in or what?”

Karen laughed at that, her anxiety easing. She took Frank’s hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“Welcome home.”


End file.
